CASTLE ARCADIA
by SANDEFUR
Summary: A Castle/Joan of Arcadia crossover.
1. Chapter 1

CASTLE ARCADIA

by

SANDEFUR

(Disclaimer: This is fanfiction just for fun. I have no claims.)

Early summer, 2010/Arcadia Maryland.

"Dad, can I drive?"

Rick Castle sighs. One of the things they didn't tell you when you became a father is that your little girl will grow up to be a teenager with a driver's license.

Alexis continues, "Please? You never let me practice in Manhattan, and Arcadia's traffic is a lot lighter, and I know the way back to the hotel, and…"

"Okay."

"Okay? Really? Thanks!" Alexis says with a broad smile as she grabs the car keys from her father's hand. She hurries across the street toward their car.

"Wait until your grandmother and I get there!" Castle calls out with a laugh. As he continues to wait by the stage door for Martha, Castle again wonders if this summer stock tour was a good idea.

Across the street, Alexis is focusing on the route back to the hotel, and dealing with a mild case of nervousness, so she is late in noticing that the driver's side door is blocked by an attractive young woman with brown hair.

"Uh, excuse me…?" Alexis politely begins.

"Is this your car?"

"My Dad's. Is there a problem?" Alexis asks while looking the car over for scratches or dents. Maybe this young woman dinged their car?

"It might be best if you stepped back. The police are already on the way."

"The police?" Alexis asks as she steps back and automatically looks over her shoulder for her father. Thankfully, always alert to any risk to his daughter, Castle is already rushing to the scene…

"Hello, I'm Richard Castle. Is there a reason you're not lettting my daughter into our car?"

"Oh, I know who you are, Mr. Castle. You use to be my Dad's favorite author. My name is Joan Girardi, and a few minutes ago I saw something very odd involving your car. It was so suspicious, I called my Dad."

"Your Dad?" Castle asks while refraining from mentioning that use-to-be remark.

"He's Will Girardi, the chief of police, and he's sending the bomb squad."

"Bomb squad? Alexis, go back to the theater."

"But Dad…"

"Go now, and keep your grandmother there too."

Alexis nods, tosses the keys to her dad, and runs back to the stage door entrance of the theater.

"Okay, Joan is it? Details."

"I was about a block away when I saw someone fiddling around under the hood of your car."

"There's an alarm."

"And there are ways around them. Anyway, when this person was done, he or she eased the hood back down and then ran away through that alley."

"He or she?"

"I couldn't tell for sure. Let's say 'he' for the sake of easier semantics. He was a little taller than me, I'm five-seven, and he wore sweat pants and a black windbreaker with a raised hood. I only saw him from the back."

"And on the basis of only that, your father is sending the bomb squad? Oh please…" Castle says as he raises the remote starter.

"Nooo!" Joan shouts, tackling Castle just as he presses the button. They slam onto the ground as the bomb destroys the car.

X X X X X

Two hours later, in the office of the chief of police, Will Girardi reviews Castle's written statement while casting an occasional hostile glance at his famous guest.

"So, even though my daughter warned you of the possibility of a bomb, you decided to press the remote starter anway?"

"I'm sorry."

"If my daughter had been killed or seriously injured…"

"I'm really, really sorry. Chief Girardi, I'm a father too, and I know how I would feel if some boob endangered Alexis the way I did Joan. It's just that the situation was so bizarre, I couldn't take it seriously. I mean, who would want to kill me in a small city like Arcadia?"

"That's the key question. According to Captain Montgomery of the N.Y.P.D., you've had an impressive list of assists to their homicide department."

"But all of those people are behind bars."

"It's possible an angry relative or friend could be seeking revenge. We are cross checking to see if any of those relatives or known associates live in the Arcadia area. By the way, Mr. Castle, what brings you and your family to our fair city?"

Castle hesitates, hoping he isn't blushing. "My mother and daughter are appearing in a play I wrote. We're on a tour of the smaller theater cities like Arcadia, Llanview, Port Charles and so on. The premiere performance is a week away."

"I'm familiar with your novels, but I didn't know you were a playwright."

"I'm not. The play is a piece of crap I banged out in only a week back when I was courting my first wife. She's an actress, and her theater group needed a new play. 'The Marston Trial' ran two nights, which is two more than it deserved."

"If the play was so bad, why revive it?"

"My mother and daughter found the play while cleaning out a closet. They fell in love with the piece, and became obsessed with the idea of staging it as sort of a family summer project. I hated the idea, but when those two join forces, they're unstoppable. So, I did my best to rewrite the thing, and to raise it from the level of pure dreck to mere mediocrity."

"Still, the name of Richard Castle will guarantee a large audience."

Castle nods his head. "A name that gets more and more tarnished every year. For instance, Joan mentioned I use to be your favorite author?"

This time Will blushes. "Oh…well, Derek Storm was the best fictional detective I've ever read, and when you killed off that character…"

"It ticked you off so much, you decided not to read any future works of mine. Yeah, I've encountered this a lot. All I can say is that I took Derek Storm as far as I could, and there just wasn't another of his stories in me. Can I persuade you to try 'Heat Wave' with a free, autographed copy?"

Will smiles. "Alright, I'll give your Nikki Heat character a try. Now, back to business. About the security detail for your family…"

X X X X X

The next morning, Joan Girardi is easily passed through police security as she enters the Arcadia Theater. From the back, Joan catches an on-stage rehearsal of The Marston Trial. As the title suggests, it is a court room scene. Joan spots Alexis about halfway down the seating and off to one side. The red-headed teenager follows along with her script. Joan eases into the seat next to Alexis.

"Miss Girardi, how good to see you again. How's the wrist?"

Joan makes a brief, deprecating gesture toward the brace on her left wrist. "This is just for show to evoke sympathy. I only have a minor sprain, and please, none of this 'Miss Girardi' business. You're making me feel old, and I'm only 22."

"Okay…Joan. I wanted to thank you again for saving my dad—well, all of us really. It was such a lucky break you were there yesterday."

"Yeah, lucky." Joan lies. (As a chosen instrument of God, Joan has been carrying out all sorts of odd assignments since she was 16. The divine assignment to watch over the Castle family is the latest.)

They pause for a moment to take in a particularly dramatic moment in the rehearsal.

"So why aren't you on stage?"

"My part is small and I don't appear until the second act, unlike my Gram who plays the judge in all three acts."

"I can't get over how familiar Mrs. Rodgers seems to me." (Footnote.)

"Gram has been a working actress for more than forty years. And even though she has done mostly stage work, she has also been in a few movies and a lot of television."

"That must be it. I know your mother is an actress too, so have you also been bitten by the acting bug?"

"I'm not sure. We haven't even had our first performance yet, but I know this is something I've always wanted to try. Besides, this may be the last summer where we can have a family project like this."

"It sounds like getting ready for college looms next summer."

"Yeah, if I can make the choice as to which school."

"I know this dilemma. Part of you wants to pick a college as far away as possible in order to enjoy true freedom for the first time, and part of you wants to stay close to the love and support of family and home."

"It sounds like a choice you've had to make."

Joan shakes her head. "Not really. My kid brother Luke is a genius who got tons of scholarships, so he was able to go to his dream school. My grades were somewhat…less. To save my parents money, I enrolled in Arcadia College and finished my pre-law degree in three years. I just completed my first year of law school with two more to go! I love my parents, but I am sooo ready to be out on my own."

Alexis smiles as she realizes Joan is half joking. "I guess I'm lucky to have so many options. Oh…excuse me, my part is coming up."

Alexis hurries away, and Joan smiles at the teenager's youth and energy. Wow, she is really feeling old…

"Nonsense Joan, you're little more than a child yourself." a nearby voice says.

Joan is not surprised. You can't even keep your thoughts from God. Joan turns to see which version she is meeting this time. It is a new avatar in the form of a short, elderly janitor.

"Here we go again. Are you here to give another warning of danger?"

"Yes Joan, a call to action."

"And will I get more advanced notice than last time?"

"Sadly, no. Stay alert and use all of your senses."

"That's it? No further details or hints?"

"Lift up thine eyes?" Janitor God says with a smile as he walks away—giving a backhanded wave.

Joan moves closer to the stage, watching Martha Rodgers playing the judge while Alexis is a witness on the stand. She also spots Rick Castle watching the rehearsal from the wings. Joan glances up and notices for the first time how many heavy objects are suspended up there: scene panels, counter weights, lights and sound equipment, etcetera. There are a couple of stage hands working on the catwalks above, and it would be so easy to drop a heavy item on the actors below…

No, that doesn't make sense. Any would-be killer will find himself trapped up there with no escape, but all of that stuff is connected by ropes and pulleys to the backstage area. Joan climbs the steps that lead to the stage level, and drifts backstage. Castle notices, and doesn't think twice about the easy access of this secured area by the police chief's daughter. After all, she is the hero who saved his life… But as Joan wanders about, Castle begins to wonder about her behavior. She appears to be looking for something specific.

A doubt crosses Castle's mind, one that he doesn't like. There were people who created dangerous situations so they could suddenly appear and play the hero. It is a desperate and sick obsession that they can't control. Certainly no one would suspect the police chief's lovely young daughter of such a thing, and so she has full access to anywhere in Arcadia…

Castle begins to follow Joan, who goes to the back wall and begins examining the many ropes that hold up the overhead equipment. A chill runs through Castle as he realizes the risk. Joan pauses, giving a long examination of one particular rope. Castle follows the line of the rope, and sees it leads to a huge lighting fixture of more than a dozen lights just over the stage area. As Joan reaches out for the rope, Castle moves in and grabs her arm.

"What are you doing?"

"Mr. Castle, there's something wrong with this rope."

"And how would you know that?"

"Can't you smell it?"

Castle sniffs the air—acid. Scared, he lets go of Joan and turns toward the stage. Martha and Alexis are just below those lights. Before he can say or do anything, the rope snaps!

TBC. Please review.

Footnote: Actress Susan Sullivan (Martha Rodgers) also appeared as Rich Lady God on Joan of Arcadia.


	2. Chapter 2

PART TWO

Joan leaps for the broken rope, grabbing hold with her uninjured hand. The weight is too much for her size and strength, but she slows the drop long enough for Castle to grab hold too. Together they manage to delay the drop of the enormous light fixture, but it begins to slip, giving them both rope burns. Even as others rush to help, they shout out in unison…

"Clear the stage!"

Martha, Alexis and the other actors scramble to safety just as the rope fully slips away. The large row of lights smashes into the trial set, destroying the judge's bench and the witness stand—exactly where Martha and Alexis were at. Ignoring the pain in his hands, Castle runs to his family…

X X X X X

"Beckett."

"Oh you lucky lady, I know how you've missed the sound of my voice."

"What is it Castle? I'm busy, as usual and I don't have time for your nonsense, as usual."

"Kate…I need help."

Kate Beckett hesitates. Castle rarely used her first name, except in times of stress. Even through the phone, she can hear a lot of stress.

"What's wrong?"

"My family is at risk."

"Martha and Alexis—are they okay?"

"So far. Yesterday afternoon someone put a bomb in my car. Early this morning, someone tried to drop some heavy equipment down on to the stage just where Mother and Alexis were. Both times, disaster was averted by the same young woman."

"The same…? You're thinking someone with a hero complex?"

"It's a possibility I can't ignore, even though my instinct says trust her."

"Your 'instinct', huh? So, just how pretty is she?"

"That's…not the point. I need a thorough background check—the kind that can only come through official channels."

"I'll be glad to help, but the local cops would probably be a better resource. Have you taken your suspicions to them?"

"That's a little tricky. The young woman is Joan Girardi, and the police chief is Will Girardi—her father."

"Yeah, that definitely sounds 'tricky'. Okay Castle, I'll start digging into this Joan Girardi's background, and I'll get back to you as soon as I have anything."

"Thanks Beckett, I really appreciate it."

"No problem. And Castle…be careful."

"Aren't I always?"

Beckett snorts derisively before hanging up.

X X X X X

Meanwhile, in Will Girardi's office, he is being briefed by the detective in charge of the Castle case…

"The rope was a thick one, and the acid concentration wasn't too intense, so it had to be applied at least an hour before the rope snapped."

"That would have been just about the time the theater opened for that day's rehearsal, plus or minus who knows how many minutes. No one noticed the smell?" Will asks.

"The old theater is being spruced up for the new play. The joint reeks of paint, turpentine, industrial cleaners and so on. You'd have to be right next to the rope to notice the acid odor."

"And the Castle family were the definite targets?"

"At least the grandmother was. She plays the judge and is in the same spot throughout the play. The girl has only a small role in the second act, and the attacker couldn't have timed it out for when she was there. It was just bad luck that she was at risk, and incredible good luck your daughter thought to check those ropes."

"Yes, she said she was playing a hunch by looking for any obvious dangers. Joan gets these hunches from time to time. Maybe she inherited my cop's instincts?"

"I guess so. We have been questioning everyone at the theater to see if they noticed anything or anyone strange, but no luck. We've also begun checking everyone's backgrounds to see if they could hold a grudge against any member of the Castle family—no luck there either."

"This case makes no sense. Someone with this intense of a hatred for the Castles should be on someone's radar, but no one can think of a suspect. Our attacker disables a sophisticated car alarm system, but leaves a bomb so crude, it's amazing it went off at all. And now he, if it is a he, enters and leaves a theater, committing sabotage, and leaving no clues. I wish the Castles would just cancel the play and leave town."

"They're still going on with the play?"

"I tried to talk Mr. Castle out of it, but he won't budge. He's scared but determined. I guess all we can do is beef up security, and hope we catch a break in the case."

X X X X X

The next morning, yawning hugely, Castle enters the common room of the largest hotel suite available in town. Martha is already there, sipping coffee and reading the local newspaper.

"Good morning, Mother."

"Good morning, dear. Sleep well?"

"I tossed and turned all night. I know I agreed to 'the show must go on', but I'm having second thoughts. The risk is too great."

"So you want to cut and run? I'll bet you're not letting yourself be run out of town."

"That's different."

"Is it? To hell with the show must go on. Martha Rodgers must go on! I've never missed a performance for any reason, and no terrorist wannabe is going to break that record."

Castle chuckles at his mother's firery determination. "Alright Mother, the show goes on, even if we end up playing to an empty house. All of this bad publicity is bound to affect ticket sales."

"What bad publicity? Have you seen the tabloid rag this burg calls a newspaper? The Arcadia Free Press—hah! The bomb in your car was called an automobile fire, and that near miss on stage yesterday isn't even mentioned."

"All to the good. Assuming our attacker can be caught, I'd still like to have enough ticket sales to break even this summer."

"With yours truly as the star, how could it be otherwise? But Richard, even though I'm willing to take my chances…"

"Don't worry, I've already arranged to send Alexis away."

"She won't like that."

"I know, and even though Alexis can normally wrap me around her little finger, this time I'm standing firm. She's out of The Marston Trial."

"I'm relieved, and I'm off. Until the set is repaired, we will have to settle for a table read."

"Be careful, Mother."

"Not to worry, I have a big, strong policeman guarding me every step of the way—courtesy of that very handsome police chief. You wouldn't happen to know…is he married?"

"His wife's picture is on his desk."

Martha sighs and shrugs. "I guess it's true what they say, all the good ones are already taken."

"Hey, I'm not taken. Does that mean I'm not a 'good one'?"

Martha chuckles and pats her son's cheek. "Of course you're taken. You are sooo taken."

Martha grabs her purse and exits, giving a little backhand wave as she goes.

Castle grumbles in his mind—women, they think they know everything. I'm completely free, one of New York's top ten eligible bachelors, and I can date anyone I choose. In fact, I might ask out Joan Girardi. It would be the perfect way to pump her…uh, for information. Castle tries to imagine himself putting his patented moves on Joan, and feels a twinge in his conscience.

This is new. Was he finally at an age where dating a 22 year old made him feel guilty? No, he dated that 21 year old fashion model just two years ago. Of course he hasn't done anything like that lately. Not since he met…

Castle's ringtone alerts him to a call. "Castle."

"I have the information you asked for."

"And good morning to you too, Beckett."

Kate Beckett, as usual, is all business. "Since hitting her adult years, Joan Girardi has led a dull, fully legal life. Not even a parking ticket."

"But…?"

"But her juvenile record is another matter. In high school, a guy she was dating, described by most as a 'gun nut', pulled a pistol on her father and threatened to shoot him. Fortunately, Chief Girardi managed to talk the kid out of squeezing the trigger."

"So she likes the bad boys. Anything else?"

"A couple of incidents involving vandalism. The first time she destroyed a student's artwork, and was brandishing a weapon. The vice-principal suspended her for three days and recommended counseling. The second time she egged the same vice-principal's car and got community service."

"Too bad Joan never got that counseling."

"She did. A full summer at a camp for troubled teens, but without any apparent benefit. The smoking gun on our Joan Girardi happened during her junior year. A fellow student was crossing the street, tripped and fell. An SUV was about to hit the girl when Joan suddenly appeared and pulled her to safety. The media proclaimed her a hero."

"Is there another 'but' coming?"

"But, a couple of days later the situation reversed. A deeper investigation raised all kinds of doubts about what really happened. The driver of the SUV claimed he saw the girl and had plenty of time to stop. Most of the eyewitnesses admitted they only heard the screech of the tires before looking and assuming Joan had done something heroic. Even the girl who was rescued was unsure if she were in any danger at all. In the end, public opinion turned against Joan for having made the whole thing up." (Footnote.)

"Wow, I can see how something like that could mess up a kid's mind, and begin a hero complex in her—making her want to recapture that original moment of adulation. But…I still find it hard to believe. Joan may be a little odd, but she seems so nice."

"Castle, try thinking with the big head. Of course we can't be absolutely sure about your Joan until she's caught in the act, but this information is enough to make you be cautious. If it were my call, I'd never let Joan Girardi anywhere near your family—especially Alexis."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. I'm getting Alexis out of town today, and I'll make sure Joan is kept far away from us and the play."

"Good luck."

"Ciao."

Castle disconnects and goes to his daughter's bedroom door. He knocks a couple of times but gets no answer. Slowly, he opens the door just a bit…

"Knock-knock, time to wake up, sleepy-head."

Gone. Not a sign of Alexis, but there is a note on the bed: 'Dad, at breakfast with Joan. Pick me up when it's time to go. Alexis'. Castle frowns at this development. Alexis does have her police bodyguard, but then, Joan can get by any cop in town.

X X X X X

In the early morning light, a white cargo van come to a stop behind the old Crawford office building—an empty structure undergoing complete remodeling. The Crawford shares a common wall with the only other building in the block, the Arcadia Theater. The driver of the van exits, disables the rear entrance alarm with ridiculous ease and returns to the van. The driver removes two 5 gallon cans of gasoline and a small bomb. Then, with grim determination, proceeds with the deadly business at hand...

TBC. Please review.

Footnote: Joan Girardi's colorful juvenile record comes from the storyline of the show.


	3. Chapter 3

PART THREE

In the main dining room of the Wentworth Hotel, Alexis Castle and Joan Girardi share a table as far from the front window as possible. A uniformed officer patrols outside, and another stands in a corner where he can see the whole room. Alexis and Joan share a companionable silence as they have struck up a tentative friendship. Between bites of her breakfast, Joan reads Alexis' copy of The Marston Trial while Alexis reads the morning paper. She pauses at a particular article…

"Oh no!"

Knowing the teenager is reading the entertainment section, Joan is not alarmed. "Problem?"

"They've canceled my favorite TV show. But…the end of season finale was just two weeks ago, and it ended on a cliffhanger!"

"Yeah, it's the time of year for that. Was it the show, 'Improper'?"

"Yes. Are you a fan too?"

"Yeah, a whole lot. My older brother Kevin is, uh, was a producer on the show. I spoke with him last night, and he had just got the word about the cancellation."

"I so loved that show. I'm not really into the sci-fi stuff—battling technology gone insane 50 years in the future—but I adored the relationship between the two main characters, Aldo and Aurora. You just knew they were meant for each other, but for one reason or another, they never got together. Why?"

"Kevin explained that to me. It's called the Moonlighting factor."

"Huh?"

"Back in the 80's there was a hugely popular TV show called Moonlighting. It was the usual TV fare—a handsome actor, a beautiful actress and they played detectives; one an amateur, the other a pro. But the real appeal of the show was the 'will they or won't they' relationship. There was lots of sexy banter, and the show did great as long as the couple was apart. But the fans insisted they be hooked up, and so they were. Big mistake. Once the sexual tension ended, the show started its' slide toward cancellation."

"Just because the main characters became a couple?"

"That's everyone's perception, and ever since, Hollywood has been leery of the Moonlighting factor."

"If only your brother had known the show was being canceled. Maybe then Aldo and Aurora could have been put together as the finale, instead of ending on a cliffhanger that will leave people wondering for years what would have happened next."

"I'm sure if Kevin had known the show was ending, he would have wrote it with a happy ending for the lovebirds."

"Lovebirds?" a voice from behind says.

Alexis smiles. "Dad, hi. We were just talking about my favorite show and how the main characters never got together as a couple."

Castle nods. "The Moonlighting factor. Alexis, you shouldn't have left the suite without telling me or your grandmother."

"Sorry, I didn't think. But I'm still in the hotel, and I have my police guard nearby. Besides, I wanted to have breakfast with Joan."

"Yes, and good morning Joan. My how you've become a regular feature in our lives. How can we ever repay you?"

Joan jokes, "The Castle family looks to be a volume business, so I'll give you the discount rate."

Alexis laughs before asking, "Dad, do you have time to join us, or are we leaving for the theater right away?"

Castle sits beside his daughter and takes her hand. "Alexis, I want you to do me a favor."

"Sure Dad, anything."

"I want you to go upstairs and pack your bags."

"Dad…you're cancelling the play?"

"No, I'm sending you to stay with your mother for a couple of weeks."

Alexis snatches her hand back. "Are you kidding me? You're sending me away like some helpless child while you and Gram stay here taking the risks? That's unfair!"

"That's the way it has to be. Please do as I ask, Alexis."

"Dad, please don't send me away. I won't have a moment's peace worrying about the two of you."

"And I won't have a moment's peace if you stay. I can face anything except the thought of you getting hurt. Upstairs young lady, right now."

Alexis gives her father a wounded puppy-dog expression that tears at his heart, but he sets his face sternly against her. Alexis sighs, and with eyes glistening, she stands.

"It looks like I have no choice. Joan, it was wonderful meeting you, and once again, thank you for all you have done. And please, watch out for my Dad. He isn't use to being on his own."

"Don't worry Alexis, I promise I have his back."

"Thank you. And 'Father', I will speak to you later."

Alexis departs with her head held high, trying not to show how upset she is. Her police guard automatically follows. Castle sighs, regretting this necessity, but determined to follow through. He turns back to Joan...

"As for you Joan, I also have a favor to ask."

"You want me to stay away from the Castle family and your play because you think I might be behind the attacks due to a hero complex. And, you've had me investigated."

"How...how did you know?"

"Your detective friend had to contact the Arcadia authorities in order to gain access to my juvenile records. As you may remember, I'm well connected in this town."

As Castle winces at this obvious gaffe, Joan takes a quick glance at a nearby waiter, the true source of her information. French Waiter God is a deity version she has not dealt with in a long time.

"Alright, it's true. I had you checked out. I'd like to believe you're okay Joan, but I can't take that chance."

"I understand. You're not the first person to wonder if I'm crazy, but suppose, just for a few minutes, you give me the benefit of the doubt."

"To what end?"

"To solve this case. The police are working on the assumption that these attacks are because of a personal grudge against you or your family."

"We have been the only targets."

"But what if this was a means to an end? A way to stop the play?"

"There are easier ways to do that than killing us."

"Yes, but if the play was canceled in Arcadia, it would just move on to the next city. But, if a member of your family died..."

"Grief would cause a permanent end to our summer tour. But why would someone want to stop The Marston Trial?"

"I read your on line bio, and it says most of your works begin with an idea suggested by a true crime. The town of Marston is only ten miles from here."

"I know. That's one of the reasons I picked Arcadia for the play's opening. But there are no big reveals in my play. Three-fourths of it is from my imagination. Unless...someone just doesn't want the community reminded the the actual crime?"

Before Joan can respond, French Waiter God arrives with two cups of coffee. He speaks with a thick accent...

"For you Mademoiselle Girardi, avec cream and sugar, and por vous, Monsieur Castle, just cream, as I recall."

"Yes, thank you, good memory." Castle distractedly replies.

"Oh pardon! I believe I have switched your cups. Allow me to switch them back."

French Waiter God does a cross armed switch of the cups, bows, (gives Joan a quick wink) and withdraws. Joan takes notice of the switch, realizing it is a clue. Although Joan's God versions were capable of being very direct, they often liked to drop hints.

"Tell me about the real crime. How did you learn of it?"

"Since I was a teenager, I've been fascinated with writing mysteries. That's why I've spent years collecting news accounts of interesting crimes, past and present. The Marston trial is based on a murder that took place 22 years ago in March of 1988. Paul Tyler, then 26, was the manager of a car dealership and even married the owner's daughter, Claire Beaumont. The Tylers bought the house across the street from her parent's home, but it was an unhappy marriage from the start. The two had many loud arguements, mostly about Claire accusing Paul of cheating on her. On the morning of the ninth, the couple had their worse fight yet. It was so loud, it woke several neighbors, including across the street, Claire's 17 year old sister, Emily. Paul left the house just at dawn to go jogging and to have a chance to cool down. Emily saw him leave wearing a grey hoodie."

"Is that significant?"

"Yes. Paul claimed he only went a short distance before deciding to return home to apologize to his wife. He claimed he entered the house and looked for Claire. Just as Paul got to the kitchen, he saw Claire on the floor with a butcher knife stuck in her chest. Paul swore he never entered the kitchen, and never touched the body. He staggered away from the scene, and said he then suffered a memory blackout of what happened next. It was that aspect that first attracted me to the case."

"What was the offical version?"

"The police say Paul murdered Claire, who had defensive wounds on her hands as well as the single knife thrust to the heart. Only Paul and Claire's fingerprints were found on the knife. Paul was seen leaving the house by the paper boy, 16 year old Todd McCracken, and by Emily, who was still watching from across the street. Both said they saw a bloodstain on the front of Paul's grey hoodie. Paul wandered away, and was found in a near catatonic state on a park bench about half a mile from his home. The stain on his hoodie was confirmed to be Claire's blood."

"Sounds open and shut."

"It was. Paul Tyler is still serving a life sentence for his crime. The part of the story that I mostly sensationalized was the memory blackout...the tortured angst of a man who will never know if he committed a horrible crime. But as you can see, no one would care if people were reminded of Paul Tyler's crime."

Joan shakes her head. "One person would care. The woman Paul was having the affair with. That's a secret she must have been desperately hiding all of these years from friends, neighbors, and especially family."

"Family...? Oh wait, Emily Beaumont, Claire's sister?"

"Why else would she be so obsessed with the coming and goings of her brother-in-law? Her life since then must have been a living hell from the guilt she feels. She assumes Paul murdered her sister because of their affair."

"But he did."

"If Paul Tyler is the real killer, who has been attacking your family? Remember, we are assuming for the moment it isn't crazy ol' me."

"So, Emily has been attacking us?"

"No, she's not the killer. Your attacker has to be an expert in disabling alarms, like the one on your car. Here's where I have the edge with local knowledge. The McCracken family owns the largest security firm in town. They do everything from simple locksmithing to sophisticated alarm systems."

"Including car alarms?"

"Yes, and the alarm systems for most of the downtown businesses, including the Arcadia Theater."

"So yesterday Todd McCracken, now 38, entered the theater just before everyone arrived, put acid on the rope holding up the overhead lights, and left unseen? That might make sense if Todd killed Claire, but only Paul had blood on him."

"What if Todd was also wearing a grey hoodie, and switched his with Paul's?"

Castle's writer's imagination kicks in. "Yeah... Todd sees Paul leave his house after another of his noisy fights with his wife. Claire, really pissed at her cheating husband, sees Todd and decides to get back at Paul by making out with the teenage paper boy. She invites him in, things get hot, but Claire decides she can't go through with it. She tries to call it off, but Todd won't take no for an answer. Claire gets scared and grabs a butcher knife. They struggle, Claire is cut and Todd gets the knife. Claire is bleeding and about to scream for help. Todd panics and stabs her. But...no fingerprints."

"It was early March. Todd was wearing gloves."

"Right. Then Paul returns, sees his wife brutally murdered and his mind shuts down. He wanders away in a zombie-like state, but Todd thinks he has been seen. He follows Paul, looking for a chance to kill the only witness. At the park, Todd realizes how out-of-it Paul is, and switches his bloodstained hoodie for Paul's. He then tells the police he saw a bloodstain on Paul as he left the house. But, Emily confirmed it."

"Guilt. She wanted to convict the man she was certain murdered her sister, so she lied."

"Okay, if all of this is true, why would Todd risk trying to kill us to stop a play that doesn't go anywhere near this version of the story?"

"I just read the play's script. Not surprisingly, the grey hoodie is mentioned at least a dozen times. Anyone who knew Todd back then might have their memory jogged that he too wore a grey hoodie."

"He'd have to be insane to risk so much over such a small possibility."

"He's had his own 22 years of guilt to deal with. Insane might be his hometown now."

At that moment, a uniformed officer approaches the table. "Miss Girardi..."

"Officer Roberts?"

"Did Miss Castle return here?"

Castle snaps, "You've lost my daughter?"

"She gave me the slip, sir. On the way upstairs, Miss Castle wanted to stop at the ladies' room. I waited outside until it seemed too long of a time, and I sent in an attendant to check. Your daughter slipped out the side exit. I've already checked out the hotel suite. She's not there."

"That crazy kid." Castle mutters.

Joan asks, "Where could she have gone?"

"I should have anticipated this. She's on her way to the theater to try to get her grandmother on her side, but she has a surprise coming there. Still, I better head for the theater to be sure."

Officer Roberts says, "I'll give you a ride in my police car, sir."

"Okay."

As the two men start to leave, Joan calls out, "Mind if I come along?"

Castle hesitates and then nods his agreement.

X X X X X

Alexis Castle pays off her taxi at the stage door entrance of the theater. As she heads for the door, she notices a white van parked at the far end of the alley. The van carries the logo, 'McCracken Security' just like the sign on the alarm over the stage door. A curious thought occurs to Alexis, one so unlikely, she almost laughs at the absurdity. Surely if it were that simple, someone would have thought of it by now. Still, would it hurt to take a quick peek?

Alexis walks the length of the alley and sees the back door of the next building is ajar. Alexis hesitates. Now her absurd idea doesn't seem so absurd, and she begins to nervously back away. What was she thinking? Time to go back before...

Suddenly the door opens and Todd McCracken, wearing his company's security uniform, exits. Face to face with Alexis he gasps... "You!"

Alexis turns to run, but it is too late...

TBC Please review.


	4. Chapter 4

PART FOUR

Alexis Castle winces with pain as her captor rips away the duct tape from her mouth. Her hands and feet are also duct taped, and she is tied to a brick pillar with an old piece of rope.

"Don't bother screaming. The building is empty, and we're on the fourth floor." The horrible man in the security uniform mutters. He checks his watch.

Alexis nods her agreement, not wanting to upset her captor. Oh God, he is so strong and quick. Just minutes ago they came face to face at the rear exit of this old building. She tried to run, but the man grabbed her and slapped her hard a couple of times. She nearly passed out. The man slung Alexis over his shoulder as easily as if she were a garment bag, and ran her up four flights of stairs. Now she is his helpless prisoner, and she can't imagine what he plans to do… Actually, she can, but she doesn't want to think about that. He checks his watch again.

"Yeah, I've got time." he says, looking Alexis up and down—assessing her like a piece of meat.

Alexis tries not to cry. She is sure tears would not elicit sympathy from this man, and might even make him angry. She has to stall…

"Why are you doing this? What has my family ever done to you to make you want to kill us?"

"You came to Arcadia with that damn play."

"The play…? All of this has been about stopping 'The Marston Trial'?"

"A month ago I was living my life and keeping out of trouble—just as I have been doing for the last 22 years. Then I see a small article in the newspaper: 'Famed crime novelist Richard Castle announces the June premiere of his play The Marston Trial…' I knew right away what it had to be about. That night I disabled the alarm on the theater next door, and searched the manager's office. I found an advance copy of the play. Damn your father for his attention to details!"

Alexis does a quick calculation in her head. "At your age…you could only be the paper boy."

"Talbot McCoy in the script—all the names were changed, but everyone who knew me then would realize I was the 'paper boy'."

"But you were just a witness. One of many who helped convict…I forget his real name."

"Paul Tyler. He was convicted of murdering his wife in 1988."

"You were the one who swore Mr. Tyler had a blood stain on his hooded jacket. The character I play confirms that in the second act. But to do all of this…" (Alexis gulps hard.) "you must be the real killer."

"Yeah, 'the killer', that's me. I never meant to be one. I was just a paper boy, barely 16. That morning the Tylers were yelling at each other again. They did that all of the time. The whole neighborhood knew about that. I was almost to the Tyler home when I saw Mr. Tyler jogging down the street. Mrs. Tyler was watching from the front window, and she was red-faced with pure rage. Then she saw me, sort of smiled, and motioned for me to come inside."

"Was she…coming on to you?"

"I didn't think so at that moment. I was so naïve. I thought she was just going to offer me a hot drink. It was a cold morning, and sometimes customers did that. She led me into the kitchen, so Iwasn't expecting what happened next. Mrs. Tyler opened her robe—she was naked! The first naked woman I ever saw. Then she was all over me—kissing me and touching me. It was wild! Way beyond any fantasy I'd ever had, and certainly far more than I had ever experienced with any girl. But then, just as fast, she stopped. She stepped away and closed her robe, muttering some nonsense about not being able to go through with this… What did she think I was, some sex toy she could switch on and off?"

Alexis sees her opportunity to gain ground with her captor. She must get him to see her as a person who could be on his side, instead of being his next victim…

"It wasn't your fault. Mrs Tyler was a grown woman who should have known better. I'm only 16, and I certainly know better. You have to careful with guys that age. Their hormones are out of control, and you have to be careful not to over excite them. She should have known that."

Todd enthusiastically nods his agreement. "Yes! She should have known better. I couldn't just stop. I grabbed Mrs. Tyler and tried to kiss her and touch her they way she did to me. She slapped me, and I got mad and shoved her. I didn't mean to hurt her or scare her, but she panicked. Mrs. Tyler grabbed a butcher knitfe off the counter and tried to slash me with it. I still had my gloves on, so I was able to block the cut, and wrestle the knife from her. But Mrs. Tyler's hands got cut, and I got blood on my hoodie. I realized she was about to scream, and how bad this looked…"

Todd pauses to check his watch again. He paces a few feet this way and that, staring at the floor as if seeing Claire Tyler's body there…

"I honestly don't remember doing it. One moment the knife was in my hand, and the next it was sticking in her chest. God, I'll never forget the look on her face as she fell to the floor. She died. She just…died. In the space of ten minutes I went from being the paper boy to being…the killer."

"But it wasn't your fault. Any good lawyer could get you off with a plea of temporary insanity. You were only 16!"

Todd shakes his head. "No, not with what happened next. Mr. Tyler returned. I tried to hide, but there was no place to conceal myself. I was sure he saw me, but the moment Mr. Tyler saw his wife on the floor, he sort of blanked out. He turned around and just walked away. I followed because I wasn't sure what I should do next. Did he see me? Was I suppose to get rid of him because he was a witness? He wandered away, and ended up in the park, sitting on a bench, staring off into space. I finally realized just how out of it he was, and saw a chance to get out of the mess I was in. We were both wearing grey hoodies, and I switched them."

Todd pauses again to check the time.

"Why do you keep looking at your watch?"

"I have to be careful. Can't let the time get away from me. I want to thank you for letting me get that off of my chest. I've had that story bottled up inside of me for 22 years. It feels good to have told someone."

Alexis realizes this is a story she is suppose to take to the grave. "You've planted a bomb?"

Todd smiles. "See that metal panel over there?"

Alexis looks over her shoulder. The fourth floor of the Crawford building has been gutted, taken down to the bare walls and old wood floors. "That's the common wall with the theater. A load bearing wall."

"Yes, very good. When these two old buildings were put up a hundred years ago, there was an air shaft to help with ventilation. But when air conditioning was installed, steel plates were placed over all of the openings. I managed to pry that one off."

"You put your bomb in the old air shaft?"

"Yes, along with an oxygen cylinder from the welding supplies I found here, and two leaking five gallon cans of gasoline. It was hard work, especially getting the steel plate back on so no one would notice it had been disturbed."

"That mix of oxygen and gasoline fumes..."

"Will be enough to level this entire block. The theater will be gone, the actors will be gone, and that damn play will never, never be performed! The bomb goes off at ten o'clock." (Checks his watch.) "But I still have time..."

Todd moves close to Alexis with an evil grin on his face. "Damn, you're a pretty one."

He cups one of her breasts with his left hand. Alexis shudders with fear and revulsion. She desperately tries to think of something to distract him, but Todd shakes his head and puts a finger to her lips...

"Shhh, no more delays. If you're quiet, and don't struggle, I'll make this as quick and painless as possible."

X X X X X

With a dramatic screech of the tires, Officer Curt Roberts stops his police car next to the stage door entrance of the theater. He hopes he is covering the fear that grips his heart. The fear has nothing to do with the reprimand earning mistake of letting Alexis Castle slip through his fingers. No, it is because he knows from twenty years of police work all the horrible things that can happen to a teenage girl. Such a sweet, polite young lady...

Castle and Officer Roberts rush into the theater. On the ride over, attempts were made to reach the cell phones of Alexis and Martha, but that only got them voice mail. All cell phones were mandated to be turned off in the theater. Joan Girardi doesn't follow the men inside. Instead, she heads for a homeless man she sees rummaging through a dumpster for recycleables.

Joan's consulatation with Homeless God is brief and very direct. He can be like that when he is angry. Even as Homeless God walks away, without the usual friendly wave, Joan rushes back to the police car. Three quick taps on the horn causes the almost immediate return of Castle and Officer Roberts.

Castle blurts out, "No one has seen Alexis. They've started a search of the theater."

Roberts adds, "The taxi company confirms Miss Castle was dropped off here nearly half an hour ago."

"I know where she is. Follow me."

Joan turns and runs down the alley. The two men follow without question, for some reason they can't explain, trusting her completely. Over the years, Roberts has heard whispered rumors about the odd behavior of Joan Girardi, but out of respect for their popular police chief, he and other members of the force have chosen to ignore such talk. As they reach the back door of the next building, Castle spots the van with the 'McCracken Security' logo. He assumes that is how Joan has figured out what is happening.

They enter with Officer Roberts, gun drawn, in the lead. The ground floor of the Crawford building is only begining to be remodeled. Hallways and little cubbyhole offices are everywhere. Castle notes with dismay...

"It will take forever to search all of this."

As Roberts radios for back up, Joan rushes up the stairs...

"This way!"

"Why?" Castle asks even as he follows.

"Uh, an animal always seeks high ground."

With Joan leading the way, they pass by the doors to the second and third floors. As they continue to climb, for the first time in years, Rick Castle prays.

X X X X X

Todd McCracken howls with pain, spewing out an endless stream of foul language.

"You bitch! You filthy little bitch. You bit off my finger!"

It wasn't completely true. Alexis only bit off the end of his right index finger. She spits it out (ugh, that's disgusting) and covers it with her foot. There, when they find her body, that little piece of D.N.A. will convict this monster.

Whimpering with pain, Todd uses his left hand to pick up a loose brick from the floor. "I'm going to kill you!"

She knows, but at least this will spare her the added horror of rape. Tears in her eyes, Alexis wishes she had a chance to say goodbye to her family, and to tell them how much she loves them. Alexis braces for the blow...

The stairway door slams open, and everyone freezes in shock. Rick Castle sees the monster with the brick in his hand, about to hit Alexis. Screaming with rage, Castle runs straight for Todd. Vaguely he is aware of Officer Roberts shouting about his shot being blocked, but no thought registers. Richard Castle, the witty and sophisticated author, is gone. In his place is an enraged father following thr primal instinct to protect his child. No power on earth will keep him from getting his hands on this man and killing him.

Todd, seeing the approaching danger, also acts on instinct...the one to survive. Automatically, he pulls a revolver from his jacket and centers the barrel on his attacker's chest. He pulls the trigger... Or at least he tries to. Reason is too late in reminding him that the tip of his trigger finger is now gone.

Castle slams into the man and rains blows fast and hard. He never knew he could be so savage. Bones crunched, bleeding, Todd collapses to the floor. Castle switches to brutal kicks, doing more damage, approaching the point of no return for Todd. Officer Roberts tries to pull Castle away, but he shrugs off the large cop as easily as a flea and continues his attack. Only three shouted words from Joan prevent another tragedy...

"Alexis needs you!"

Castle stops. A red haze lifts from his eyes, and reason returns. Joan has cut Alexis free of her restraints, but she is wobbly. Instantly, he sweeps his daughter up into his arms.

"Alexis, it's okay. I've got you."

For a moment, Alexis seems uncertain of her circumstances. She uses a word Castle hasn't heard in years...

"Daddy?"

"Yes, daddy's here. Thank God I found you in time."

"Time...? No, we don't have time!"

"Alexis?"

"What time is it?"

Joan replies, "Nine forty-nine."

"There's a bomb and a mix of gases in the old air shaft. That man says there's enough to destroy the whole block. It goes off at ten."

"We're going now." Castle announces as he heads for the exit, carrying Alexis in his arms.

Joan calls, "Wait."

Castle hesitates, he and Alexis give her their attention.

"McCracken is unconscious, and Officer Roberts can't get him down four flights of stairs all on his own in only ten minutes. I can't help carry him with a sprained wrist. It's up to you, Mr. Castle. Will you help carry him down, or do we leave him?"

All eyes turn to Castle, who squirms with indecision. Every second seems to stretch forever.

Roberts comments, "No one would blame you."

"Dad...?" Alexis asks with a doe-eyed expression of trust and love.

Castle sighs heavily. "Can you stand?"

Alexis nods, and Joan steps forward to lend a shoulder to help steady her. Roberts radios a warning to the cop guarding Martha to evacuate the theater, and warns dispatch of the looming disaster. Together, he and Castle carry an unconscious Todd down four flights of stairs in a surprisingly quick and efficent manner.

Castle has to hand it to the Arcadia authorities. By the time they are back in the alley, the theater has been evacuated, the streets are blocked off, and emergency vehicles are standing by. As they are rushed to safety, paramedics manage to revive Todd. He groans, not just from the pain, but from the realization of how crappy his day has turned out. The medics begin loading him into the ambulance...

"Wait. I want to see this." Todd pleads. The memory of this sole triumph will have to last him the rest of his life.

Ten o'clock passes, but at ten-oh-one the explosion comes. Too bad for Todd, he knows nothing about bombs. Explosive force always follows the path of least resistance. The old air shaft, with its' heavy brickwork and steel reinforcement, is the strongest part of the structure. In effect, Todd has created a giant cannon. The thin aluminum cover at the top is blown off as nearly all of the explosive force emerges from the air shaft in the form of a brief column of flame. The buildings suffer only minor damage. Everyone laughs and applauds in relief. Joan looks at Todd and mocks...

"Your line is: 'this has never happened to me before'."

X X X X X

EPILOGUE

A month later, Joan is on the living room couch, absorbed in her father's copy of 'Heat Wave'. Helen Girardi drifts by, sorting through the mail.

"A letter for you, Joan."

"Really? An actual stamp-on-the-envelope letter? How quaint. Thanks Mom."

Joan takes the letter and sees it is from Alexis Castle...

'Dear Joan,

Sorry about the snail mail, but Gram insists that any message you feel is worthwhile should involve pen and paper. (It's kind of old-fashioned, but I agree.) Gram is still touring in The Marston Trial, but she will be back in September.

It's good to be home, and I must be getting better because I have officially grown tired of Dad hovering over me. I called the police detective he works with and begged her to get Dad involved with one of her cases. It worked!

Further good news: the nightmares have stopped (mostly), and I can go out on my own again without quivering from nervousness. The therapy helps, and thanks for the tip to remember that I bit off that creep's finger! Whenever the edginess tries to creep back into my mind, I remind myself that I'm a bad ass! (LOL)

I heard the news report that Paul Tyler was released from prison after D.N.A. testing proved he was wearing Turd McCreepy's hoodie when arrested. Imagine never knowing if you had committed a terrible crime. At least some good came from our trip to Arcadia.

Dad sends his regards to: "The Hero Without A Complex." He says if you ever release him from his promise (?), that would be the title of the novel he would write. He and I both invite you to stay with us if you're ever in New York. I really hope you will, for in the few days we were together, you have definitely become...

A friend forever,

Alexis'

THE END.

(I hope you have enjoyed this crossover of two of my favorite shows. I appreciate all reviews.)


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